


My Neighbor's Keeper

by Kurenaino



Series: Negotiaton One-Offs [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood, Bloodlust, M/M, Murder, No Redeeming Features Here, Obsession, One-Sided Relationship, Phone Sex, Rope Bondage, Seduction, Serial Killer!Obi-Wan, Serial Killers, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 01:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12180426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenaino/pseuds/Kurenaino
Summary: After Anakin Skywalker becomes lead detective of the gruesome Negotiator serial killings, Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself growing increasingly closer to the detective he has been obsessing over when he moves in next door. Based on Negotiation, by Glare. Sequel to Genesis and Negotiator.





	My Neighbor's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glare/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Negotiation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152843) by [Glare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glare/pseuds/Glare). 



> You know how I said last time that there wouldn't be another one of these? Weeeeeeellllllll.....
> 
> I lied! AGAIN!!!
> 
> My discussion with Glare on this one wasn't half as extensive as it was for the other ones, so I sort of wrote this one by the seat of my pants. Not sure how Glare's gonna like it, not sure how you guys are going to like it, but the tone of this one is...much, MUCH different from the others. Like, not nearly as dark. Don't get me wrong, at the heart of this, it's a story about murder and obsession, and there's plenty of blood and sex and awful, creepy stalker serial killer neighbors in this, but it's still not as dark.
> 
> Hope you like it, lovelies!

Obi-Wan had just settled down for the evening with a book, his laptop, his class notes and a  _very_  stiff drink when a sharp rap on the door brought the professor out of his relaxed ease and into a state of extreme alertness, his hand immediately shooting to his side table where a long, particularly sharp knife was neatly nestled in the drawer. Nobody ever knocked on his door.  _Ever_. He stared at the door intently as if merely looking at it would send whoever was at the door away, or somehow relegate it to being a simple figment of his imagination. Another knock, this one more gentle, and Obi-Wan cursed under his breath, ran his fingers through his hair, and stood, straightening his unbuttoned black suit jacket which he had yet to remove after his workday.

He could only grasp at a few reasons why someone would be at his door, and none of them were desirable in the least. There was the slightest possibility that one of his recent sexual partners could have  _somehow_  discovered where he lived, a long string of pretty young men and the occasional beautiful blonde woman he picked up from local clubs and bars that he liked to tie up and thoroughly dominate. The one he had last night, a sweet thing with unruly brown curls and the greenest eyes he had  _ever_  seen, had been especially clingy after they were done, so much so that Obi-Wan had considered cuffing him to the headboard so he could get some rest. He settled on simply leaving, though the boy  _did_  seem the type to try and find him. Obi-Wan didn't know  _how_  he would accomplish this, considering how drunk the boy was by the end of the night, but stranger things  _had_  happened.

It could, of course, also be the police, come to ask about a  _certain_  string of murders that had happened back during the winter, and the winter before that as well. Their new lead detective was  _quite_  good, and though he had only been on the case for a little over a month, media pressure had been on him constantly despite there being no new bodies in the Negotiator serial murders since the last one, a particularly grisly display on the playground of a local kindergarten three days before Christmas. It was possible that something had been left behind, that something new had been discovered months after the fact that would prove to be the very thing to bring Coruscant's most notorious criminal down once and for all. Not likely, but  _possible_.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan slowly approached the door, looked through the peephole and felt his heart begin to absolutely  _pound_  in his chest. It  _was_  the police, and the very same lead detective on the Negotiator case, no less, the man fidgeting almost nervously and dressed as sharp as Obi-Wan had ever seen him. Just over a month, they had been neighbors, and he was  _still_  coming to terms with it, still was reeling from the very idea that on a nearly daily basis, he could catch sight of Detective Skywalker rushing out the door on his way to an urgent call or simply running dangerously close to late, or coming home disheveled and tired and worn in the evenings after a long day of protecting the city from the criminals that infected it. Obi-Wan did what he could to stay out of his way, content to observe the man from a distance, and save for the day Anakin had moved in across the narrow hall, Obi-Wan didn't think they had interacted at all.

Affecting his most charming smile, Obi-Wan opened the door, the officer almost jumping and his gaze shooting up to quickly meet his before they very,  _very_  briefly gave the professor a once-over, a faint, flustered blush staining the younger man's cheeks. It took everything in Obi-Wan's being not to grab hold of the boy and kiss those slightly parted lips, to run his fingers through those blonde curls, to push him against the wall and fuck him  _absolutely_  senseless and  _oh god he needed him immediately this instant now now NOW_ -

"Detective Skywalker," Obi-Wan said in a calm, smooth, accented drawl, the light, amused smile on his lips making Anakin absently wring his hands together. "What a pleasant surprise. Here to arrest me?"

"A-arrest you?" Anakin squeaked, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips and swallowing to try and wet his dry throat. "W-what for?" Obi-Wan leaned casually in the doorway, his smile evolving into a bemused smirk. His hapless, clueless,  _adorable_  neighbor was making this  _far_  too easy.

"Every term, I always have students complaining that I am, uh... _murdering_  their grade point average, and several of my coworkers have accused me of stealing hearts." He waved his hand dismissively when Anakin chuckled, tense and relieved and nervous all at once, the man not so uncomfortable as he was  _extremely_  awkward, which Obi-Wan found  _terribly_  endearing. He had expected the handsome detective to be more accustomed to casual flirting. "All untrue, I can assure you, but that sort of talk  _does_  tend to spread. I fear I have developed something of a reputation."

"Y-yeah, so I heard..." Anakin muttered, his eyes beginning to rove for just a second before he quickly caught himself and smiled sheepishly at the professor, hoping that he hadn't seen it, but the way one of his thin eyebrows arched was signal enough that he most certainly  _did_  see it. "S-sorry, I-I don't know why I said that..."Anakin squeaked, taking a moment to clear his throat and find his voice before he faced the handsome man again. "Of course I haven't heard anything about you...a-and so far as I know, being a handsome devil isn't a crime yet." Anakin winced as soon as he had said it, even before Obi-Wan lightly, dismissively scoffed. Cute  _and_  unassuming was a wicked combination, and Anakin privately kicked himself for not having the nerve to come over before today. "S-sorry again, I don't know  _what's_  wrong with me..."

"Nerves, perhaps?" Obi-Wan gently offered, pointing to the detective's shaking hands as he picked at his sleeves and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "My students often exhibit similar ticks when they are particularly anxious."

"I-I suppose that must be it," Anakin stammered, sighing in relief at the chance to use the excuse the man had provided. "I'm, uh...going on a date, see? It's the first one I've been on in a long time, and I...uh, suppose I'm out of practice. With flirting a-and..." Anakin trailed off when the professor seemed to stare vacantly at him, like he was lost or confused or simply lacked the interest, and the flustered detective privately kicked himself.  _Of course_  his neighbor didn't care. This was their first  _real_  conversation, and the quiet Obi-Wan had made no attempt to get to know him, save for the day Anakin moved in, which didn't count.

"...I'm sorry, are you using me to brush up on your flirting?" Obi-Wan asked slyly, giving him a look of wicked amusement that made Anakin wish could just sink right into the floor. Instead, he just looked down at his feet and quickly stopped his leg from nervously shaking.

"It was pretty bad, wasn't it?" Anakin asked shyly and flushing deep red in embarrassment, which only became worse when the handsome professor smiled understandingly at him.

"Needs a little work, I suppose, but for being out of practice, it wasn't bad." Obi-Wan looked the man over, watching with rapt fascination at the slight twitch at his lips, the way his eyes darted, the slightly parted mouth, the tension he carried in his shoulders. It was  _beautiful_ , such a fine collection of anxiety and nervous habits that so often accompanied a level of brilliance. Obi-Wan was afraid of drawing too near, lest he somehow disrupt this carefully balanced creation, and he shifted back slightly, content enough to look, not touch his dear detective.

"Hopefully I won't make too much of an ass of myself!" Anakin said, perking up slightly and rubbing at the back of his neck. "She's...very beautiful. I don't want to mess this up."

"One would have thought that with all the media coverage you have been receiving in the past month, you would be used to this sort of thing," Obi-Wan drawled. "I wouldn't have guessed a little attention from a girl would make you so... _anxious_. You face the press nearly every day, your every action with the Police Department is scrutinized."

"It's not the same," Anakin said, all his previous nerves suddenly vanished as he stood taller, his face proud, his blue eyes almost seeming to glow with passion and excitement for what he did. "My job is simple. Protect the people, defend the peace, follow the clues left at a crime scene to lead me to the criminal responsible and bring them to justice. It's...it's like a puzzle. Everything fits together, it all makes sense, there's a certain logic to it all." His confident smile faltered, once again turning into that endearing, sheepish smile. "The personal stuff is...complicated."

" _Well_..." Obi-Wan huffed, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked Anakin over. "No wonder you're the darling of Coruscant's finest, with passion and confidence like that, your stellar record is  _hardly_  a surprise."

"Y-you've been following my career?" Anakin asked, equal parts flattered and embarrassed until the professor scoffed.

"You're on the news daily, Detective, you're quite difficult to avoid."

"Ah..." Anakin cleared his throat, his chest puffing up, though he still fiddled with his sleeve. "Well, hopefully this winter, I'll earn at least some of this attention when I catch the Negotiator."

"Mm, wouldn't  _that_  be something..." Anakin smiled bright and easy at his handsome neighbor, all his previous tension quickly fading away until he looked down at his watch and nearly choked.

"Oh,  _shit_ , I'm going to be late!" Anakin nearly shouted, turning away quickly before stopping and reeling around to face Obi-Wan again. "Um, thanks, Professor. I feel a lot better about this."

"Any time, Detective," Obi-Wan said softly as he inclined his head, watching with amusement as Anakin Skywalker bolted down the hall and through the door into the stairwell.

And was back a moment later, out of breath as he skid to a stop before the bemused professor.

"I forgot why I knocked on your door in the first place!" Anakin said between gasps. "I don't want you to think I'm some loser that went to the neighbor he doesn't know for a fucking  _pep talk_." He hunched down as he dug through his pockets and fumbled with his keys for a moment before he unhooked one and held it out to Obi-Wan. "I was wondering if you'd take out my dog in a few hours. His name is Threepio, he's a little...anxious, and...well, I wanted to make sure he doesn't trash my apartment again so-"

"Relax, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, plucking the key out of the younger man's hand. "I'm good with animals. I'll take care of it. Go have fun on your date." Flashing him a bright smile, Anakin bolted for the stairwell once again, leaving Obi-Wan to sigh and shut his own door, the slightest grin of malicious delight on his lips as he crossed the hallway and slipped into Anakin's apartment.

* * *

"I don't know  _why_  you are always so difficult..." Obi-Wan grumbled as he flicked his scarf over his shoulder, bent down, scooped Threepio up into his arms, and placed him on the park bench, the dog panting and whining until the professor finished rummaging through his briefcase for his book, slid his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, and sat beside the fussy animal. With a whine, the dog laid down, dropped his head into Obi-Wan's lap, and panted happily as the professor absently scratched behind his ear as he read, the nervous, shaking tremors slowly abating as the animal began to relax.

It was mid-August, and it was unseasonably cold, which Obi-Wan greatly detested. The chill of the fall served as something of a stressful reminder that Winter was just around the corner, and with winter came  _The Urge_ , that horrid, bloodthirsty part of himself that set him apart from the rest of the population, that beast born from pain and death that made him crave blood to fill the hole inside him. The wound had been torn long ago, and from that wound came the predator that demanded death in threes every winter, the sacrifice Obi-Wan was forced to make to continue to appear human.

During the other three seasons, he was not... _normal_ , occasionally still killing when he encountered certain stressors that set him off, the immediate relief of taking a person's life in his hand and ripping it away from them in a rush of blood enough to keep his beast sated and content for weeks at a time. For all other times, he had sex and alcohol, one to fulfill that primal, savage need to control and dominate a fool that had put their lives and trust in his bloody hands, and the other to numb him enough to forget. It was a system, and a good one, one that had worked for many years, one that had kept him sane in a world that was relentless in its mission to rip away everything he ever cared for, to leave him with nothing but the need to kill.

Then winter would come, and his control and his wants would be handed over to the dark creature that always lurked within him, and his murderous wants would become murderous  _need_ , and he was  _trapped_ , caught in a cycle that would not release him until he had taken three lives to serve as the grim reminders of those he had lost. He feared it at first, but in time had learned to embrace it, turn it into an art form, each death a new, gruesome masterpiece to shake Coruscant at its foundations, but even with his embrace of what he had become, the holiday season brought with it the pain of his losses, the anniversary of the slow death of the man he once was. The chill was a memory, the snow a reminder of what he had lost, the ghosts of those he had loved on every corner, on every face, in everything he saw.

So  _no_ , he did not appreciate the unseasonable chill, a gust of autumn in late summer.

Obi-Wan still had a few weeks left before the fall term started and was using his time off to enjoy the last stretch of summer before the weather made the cold turn, spending what time he could running through one of Coruscant's many parks or spending his time reading outside or drawing up his lesson plans on the terrace of a café with a cup of tea and chatting amicably with the college students who staffed them, many of who had been students of his, or  _would be_  students the following term and were taking advantage of an opportunity to get a feel for their handsome teacher.

With no schedule to keep beside his own, his break freed up his evenings for long and frequent nights of frequenting his favorite bars and clubs for beautiful things to seduce. They were always strangers, and he never took them home, instead dragging his conquests to whatever cheap hotel was nearby, and he  _never_  saw them more than once. And with nowhere to be in the morning, he was free to stay as late as he wished, taking the time to fully indulge himself while he had the opportunity.

However, more and more often, he was being interrupted by his beautiful neighbor, the focal point of his burning obsession, because Anakin had  _smelled_  Kenobi's excess of time and was taking the opportunity to ask him as often as his busy schedule allowed to watch the dog. Because he and his girlfriend were getting  _serious_. As serious as a relationship spanning three months could be, and neurotic Threepio did  _not_  appreciate the moans and cries coming from the bedroom. And so, with his usual nervous exuberance, Anakin had asked Obi-Wan to watch the dog, because today was  _Day Trip Date Day_ , and he and the girl were going to a concert in Temple Park. Obi-Wan agreed, of course. How could he say no to dearest Anakin?

"I need to fuck something..." Obi-Wan mumbled to the dog beside him, his eyes looking up from the book in his hand and peering out at the many people in the park that day. "What do you think, Threepio? Some pretty young thing looking for someone to tell them what to do? Some blonde, curly haired angel with blue eyes and a pretty mouth that  _begs_  to be dominated?"

Threepio simply wiggled on to his back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth when Kenobi scratched his belly.

"Yes, I like the idea of that too..." Obi-Wan drawled, his predatory gaze following a young man running shirtless on a nearby trail despite the chill in the air. "It's too bad that Anakin's not available today. Or tomorrow. Or for the next few months because come the winter, he'll be studying my art in  _great_  detail." He sighed and closed the book, the sudden sound making the dog bolt upright and sit stiff beside him, somehow managing to inch so close that he was nearly in the professor's lap despite not seeming to move at all. Obi-Wan simply rolled his eyes and removed his reading glasses, putting them back into their case and tucking it neatly into his pocket and scratched the shaking dog's head.

"Oh,  _relax_..." Obi-Wan drawled. "I have a new plan this year. I think he will  _greatly_  appreciate it..." He scratched behind the dog's ear, and slowly, the frantic animal's eyes began to close with relaxation. "Would you like to help me plan? This year will be a bit more... _experimental_  than my previous exhibits, and I have begun to give it a great deal of careful thought."

Now panting happily, Threepio began to wag his tail.

" _Good boy_..." Obi-Wan drawled softly, draping his arm protectively over the dog's back. "Your master  _understands_  me, more than anyone alive and that press conference of his back in the spring was...quite close to home." He scratched the dog's head, the furry muzzle butting against his beard when the mutt turned to sniff at him. "Don't worry, Threepio, not close enough into get me caught. But close enough for... _inspiration_." He sighed wistfully as he watched the runner once again pass his field of view, this time going in the opposite direction, and Obi-Wan could have sworn he saw the man looking at him.

He waved at the man to confirm, and unsurprisingly, the man slowed and waved back, drawing up taller and running faster the moment he broke eye contact.  _Male posturing_. Always his favorite to watch break down and beg. A demanding whine from the dog and the cold, wet nose pressed against his neck, and Obi-Wan returned to petting the anxious animal.

"Three men..." Obi-Wan muttered softly next to the dog's ear. "Three blue eyed beauties with curly blonde hair and strong, perfectly muscled bodies,  _just_  like Anakin..." He closed his eyes, a wanting, possessive moan in his throat torn from him as a cold breeze blew and sent chills rushing up his spine. "There are nights I lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking of  _nothing_  but him. My Anakin... _my Anakin_...the very object of my obsession." He grinned wickedly against the dog's neck when the man ran by again, even closer this time than before. "Three bodies. Three murdered men in the image of Anakin Skywalker. I feel it only fitting to dedicate my next masterpieces to dear,  _sweet_  Anakin, don't you think?"

Threepio licked the professor's nose, the man squeezing his eyes shut tight and wiping his face when the dog laid down across his lap.

"So glad to have your approval. Like me, Threepio, you only have Anakin's best interest in mind. I should hate to bore him. Nothing says you care like personalized murder." With a small smile as the dog tensed, carefully eying the runner who had now shifted from the background distressingly to the foreground, and Obi-Wan soothingly pet Threepio on the head. "Don't tell Anakin, my friend. It's a  _surprise_. I'd hate for him to catch me before we've even begun..."

Threepio began whining in earnest as the runner drew closer, the nervous dog practically sitting in Obi-Wan's lap by the time he ran by once again, and with a sigh, Obi-Wan stood, stretched, put his unread book back in his bag, and grabbed the dog's leash.

"You're right, he is  _absolutely_  not my type, Threepio," Obi-Wan said with a roll of his eyes, following the frantic animal as he pulled at the leash. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't bend him over and fuck him senseless. I'm not  _terribly_  picky, and I honestly do need it."

Threepio simply whined louder and pulled harder on the leash.

"...or it's going to be another night of getting drunk at home," Obi-Wan sighed. "You know, there aren't  _any_  men like Anakin Skywalker, and I won't be touching him any time soon. We have to keep him  _safe_...and I need to be free to continue my work. You honestly can't expect me to have  _nobody_  while I'm pining...although perhaps you're right, the next man I bed  _could_  have a closer likeness to my dear Detective..."

With a panicked, strangled bark, Threepio stopped in the middle of the pathway and then begun backing away from a squirrel that had come down from a nearby tree and with his legs stiff and fully extended, resolutely refused to move. With a tired groan and a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan scooped the dog up and began the short walk through the park toward home.

"Serial killers have abusive childhoods and a history of cruelty to animals..." Obi-Wan muttered bitterly under his breath. "When I am finally apprehended and they write a book on the case study of my psychology, let it  _never_  be said that I shared those traits with my contemporaries, because I deserve everlasting adoration for putting up with  _you_ , you neurotic animal."

Obi-Wan could feel Threepio's tail beating rapidly against his leg as he wagged it.

"I don't mind, of course," Obi-Wan said as he hoisted the dog up and held him closer. "It's for Anakin,  _everything_  for Anakin...even if he is spending his time cavorting with that skinny  _slut_..." Threepio began to whine and lick enthusiastically at Obi-Wan's face. "I know, you don't like that bitch either, do you?" Obi-Wan sighed, looking out of the corner of his eye at two women who were very clearly staring, and with the chill in the air and his frustrations with

Anakin's quite frankly vapid girlfriend, he could feel the beginnings of that familiar want for blood stirring within him. "I hope Anakin appreciates this, I'm going to have to get this jacket dry-cleaned..."

A low, continuous whine emitted from the dog's mouth as they crossed the street, the golden furred mutt beginning to shake once again in the presence of honking horns and running engines and the general commotion of the city that was thankfully only a distant buzz in the park.

"I know..." Obi-Wan said soothingly. "We'll go home, get you fed, and then you and I can get my grad level class finalized and decide on a place to dump the bodies. I need to start scouting the places out  _now_  for surveillance and patrols so I don't get caught. We wouldn't want this game between Anakin and I to prematurely end, now would we?"

Threepio simply wagged his tail.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed in contentment as he ran his fingers over the line of loops and intricate knots in the rope that ran along the length of the beautiful creature's spine, his arms tied firmly behind him at his trim waist and the pale skin of his neck and shoulders covered in dark red marks. He was a pretty thing, six feet of lean, strong muscles and blonde hair that tumbled in gentle curls to just above his shoulder. His eyes were the wrong color, a light brown instead of rich blue, but that didn't matter so much when he was face down on the bed with his eyes shut tight with pleasure, or kneeling before him as he dutifully sucked him off. All in all, he was easily the closest match for Anakin that Obi-Wan had been able to find, so close that he could almost imagine the gasps and moans and begging cries of his name came straight out of his darling detective's pretty mouth.

He found this boy, his little pseudo-Anakin, on the early side of the last Saturday before the fall semester started at one of his favorite haunts, a cozy bar that tended to attract young professionals that sided on the sexually adventurous. This boy was no different. Dressed in tight fitting jeans and a collared shirt that left  _very_  little to the imagination, he had caught Obi-Wan's attention the moment he set eyes on him and very quickly decided that he  _needed_  to seduce this man. It didn't take long, and within fifteen minutes, the promiscuous young thing was excitedly leading the handsome stranger back to his apartment.

As it so happened, the young man was no stranger to being tied up and told what to do, and his cozy apartment was well stocked with an array of items expressly for that purpose, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if he may cross paths with this man again in a different season, if his promiscuity and his eagerness to take complete strangers home would one day end with him restrained to the cold, steel table of a murderer's kill room. It was a dangerous time to look so similar to Detective Anakin Skywalker, and as Obi-Wan carefully looped the silken cord around the boy's body and lovingly secured each knot, he secretly hoped that he'd meet the boy come winter.

The sex was rough, wild and possessive and animalistic, and his beautiful Almost-Anakin moaned and screamed and begged for more, harder, faster as he was fucked into the mattress or against the wall or made to sink to his knees before him, unable to free himself from his binds or touch his dominating partner. Hard, controlling hands gripped his golden hair and left dark bruises on his arms and hips and thighs, his mouth and teeth leaving claiming bites on his neck, his shoulder, his chest and back, and kissing him so hard his lips were stained red. In the periods of rest between their possessive coupling, Obi-Wan would undo the knots that bound the used man so he could tie him up differently, practicing a new knot, trying a new method to restrain his willing toy, the breathless man watching through a pleasured haze as his older partner worked and experimented, a hard edge in those blue eyes growing sharper and wilder until they seemed to burn with hunger, and he would be taken again.

Obi-Wan stayed the night, a rare thing for him, but such a perfect opportunity was not to be wasted, the cycle of sex and experimentation punctuated only occasionally by bouts of sleep that amounted to little more than naps, though his partner didn't seem to mind when he was woken up with the urgent demand to open his mouth and suck, or by the firm grip on his waist pulling his hips up to be easily penetrated. They only took a proper break when the sun filtered in through the curtains, the boy coming off the high of orgasm with his partner still seated deep within him and mouthing at the tender bites on his neck when he declared that he was hungry. With a chuckle of agreement, Obi-Wan untied him, slipped into his pants, and ventured to the kitchen to make breakfast for them both, only to begin again in earnest once they had finished eating.

He brushed the boy's hair aside, his fingers tracing over the bites he had left and checked to insure the bindings were secure, the boy groaning softly as he felt the man move above him and wiggling his hips to press up against Obi-Wan's, softly grinding to coax the man to full arousal and entice him to have him again, his patience for the professor's slow, methodical binding quickly wearing out. But Obi-Wan was patient, and with a firm hand, he pressed the boy's hips down against the mattress, a desperate wine torn from the boy's throat as he began to rut his own weeping, hardened length against the sheets.

With the intricate bindings done, Obi-Wan sat back to admire the sight of his wanton project, a beautiful mess of flushed skin and desperate moans and silken knots that kept him immobile and controlled by the man that tied him, and he couldn't help but run his hands over the man and imagine it was Anakin. It wasn't a hard thing to do with how similar the two men looked, and Obi-Wan leaned over him, pressing his hips against the boy's and groaning as he bucked back against him. Placing his hands on either side of the boy's head, Obi-Wan bent down and kissed at his neck and wondered if Anakin's skin would taste so sweet, how the pale flesh would look covered in red marks that he had left there, if Anakin would moan in the same desperate, wanton way, if his name would sound on Anakin's lips the way it sounded on this boy's, if his detective were half as promiscuous, if he would enjoy being tied and controlled and told what to do.

Obi-Wan laughed softly as the boy beneath him moaned, his body quickly responding not just to the movements of his bound play thing, but to the thoughts of Anakin Skywalker in the same position.  _Of course_  this was nothing like it would be with Anakin. Anakin would be  _far_  sweeter.

Just as he grabbed hold of the boy's hair and bit down on the junction of his neck, a wild, pleasured moan torn from the boy's throat, Obi-Wan's phone on the bedside table began to ring and the two of them froze, his hand tightening in the golden locks and his teeth sinking harder against the boy's skin, earning him a soft, pained gasp and a pleasured whimper when he began bucking against him in earnest.

With a snarl of irritation, Obi-Wan reached over and snatched the phone off the table, the charging cable ripped out of the phone's charging port, and all his irritation vanished instantly when he looked at the caller ID.

 _Anakin Skywalker_.

The Detective had given Obi-Wan his number after the first time he had asked him to watch his dog, just in case something had gone wrong, and since then, every single day had been a fight to keep himself from calling the object of his absolute obsession. So far, he had succeeded, which became easier every single day that passed by, since Anakin hadn't called him either. It was like the exchange never happened, though Obi-Wan had never forgotten that it had. And now,  _now_ , Anakin Skywalker was calling  _him_.

He could have died right then and had no regrets.

Obi-Wan quickly jumped off the bed to the desperate complaints of his play thing, and with a growl, he hooked his hand under the ropes between his shoulders and dragged him off the bed on to the floor, a hand on his shoulder pressing him down to his knees.

"If you make  _one sound_ ," Obi-Wan commanded, "I will leave you here, tied, naked and aroused, and I  _won't_  come back. Understand?" The boy dutifully nodded, and Obi-Wan shot him a pointed look, flicked his gaze downward, and immediately understanding what he was meant to do, the boy leaned forward and slid his lips around the professor's hardening cock as he answered the ringing phone

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan drawled with a shiver as he watched the detective's double bob his head, his tongue darting out to lick underneath the growing erection. "What a pleasant surprise..."

"Oh,  _jeeze_..." the detective stammered. "You know, Obi-Wan, you should quit this teaching job of yours and take up a career in radio."

"Because I don't have the looks for television, right?" Obi-Wan asked, his free hand threading through the boy's golden locks and guiding his pace as Anakin sputtered for a moment, and with a silent moan, the professor closed his eyes, his hips bucking involuntarily into the boy's mouth.

"N-no! No, of course you're..I-I mean, I was  _going_  to say you've got the...you just have this..."

"...vocabulary."

" _Accent_." Anakin said, clearly flustered, and Obi-Wan could almost see the deep red flush that stained his face and neck, and he thrust himself all the way to the hilt in the boy's mouth, the blonde gagging despite his best efforts to remain silent. "I was  _going_  to say accent! You know how people love to listen to accents, you ought to put that voice of yours to good use."

"Mmm, I fear that's a bit more attention than I'm comfortable with," Obi-Wan said softly, releasing the boy's head and watching as he caught his breath and resumed laving attention on the fully stiff erection. "I fear I'm something of an introvert."

"Y-yeah, I noticed!" Anakin said with a laugh. "I've lived across the hall from you for months and I feel like I hardly know you! Which is... _actually_  sort of why I called..." Anakin muttered awkwardly. "See, uh, I know you like to keep to yourself, and I've been asking a lot of you lately...w-with Threepio, and I never meant to be a bother, s-so..."

"You aren't a bother, Anakin..." Obi-Wan whispered breathlessly, stroking the boy's hair as he gently nursed his cock, his tongue lazily running over the weeping tip and lapping away the bead of liquid. "As I said before, I don't mind helping out."

"Yeah, well, I still feel bad," Anakin insisted. "So I thought...y-you know, to say thank you for watching him so often...uh..." He laughed nervously, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but groan when his bound boy licked from base to tip, his face flushed as he soundlessly panted, his cock weeping profusely as it throbbed. "...uh, Obi-Wan, are you busy?" the detective quietly asked, and Obi-Wan chuckled as he stroked the boy's hair.

"Not at all..." he whispered. "Taking care of some necessary business before the semester starts. Nothing terribly important."

"O-ok..." Anakin stammered, a deep breath heard from the other side of the phone. "Look, Obi-Wan, to thank for helping me so much, I thought maybe we could go out for drinks tonight. My treat. You don't have plans already, do you?"

Obi-Wan covered the phone's received and moaned loudly, grabbing the ropes that tied the boy and throwing him on the bed. He dragged him back so he was bent over the edge of the bed, pulled his hips up, and roughly thrust inside him, the boy's sharp, pleasured moan cut short when he bit on the sheets to keep from making any noise as he was commanded. A swift slap to his ass prompted the boy to begin pushing hard and fast back on the professor's cock.

"I would  _love_  to join you tonight..." Obi-Wan drawled, his voice deep and husky and tinges with possessive hunger, though the phone's speakers prevented that from getting to Anakin.

"You will?!" Anakin asked excitedly. "Oh, that's great, I didn't think..." He laughed softly, and Obi-Wan bit down on his hand to keep silent as he quickly rolled his hips to meet the boy's hard thrusts. "I'm off work at seven, so...I'll be by your place around eight?"

"I'm looking forward to it..." Obi-Wan said between hard gasps of breath.

"Yeah, me too!" Anakin chirped, raucous laughter in the background beginning that made the detective growl. " _Shut up, Quin, I mean it_!" Anakin shouted, clearly to whoever was responsible for the laughter. "I-I have to go, Obi-Wan," Anakin said quickly. "See you tonight."

Obi-Wan didn't wait to hang up the phone and toss it to the side, swiftly grabbing the boy's shoulders and pounding into him as hard as he could, rough, dominating growls torn from his throat with each thrust within him, and the boy finally broke, moaning loudly as he was roughly taken and climaxing violently against the sheets. Grabbing the boy's hair tightly and pulling back to expose his throat, Obi-Wan latched on to the pale skin of his neck as he came with a shudder and a pleasured, possessive groan. It was more than he ever hoped for, and as he lay on top of the thoroughly used boy and kissed at his neck, ran his fingers through his curling, golden locks, felt the boy clenching around him and milking his cock for all it had to give, through his bleary eyes, all he could see was Anakin.

* * *

" _I can't believe she dumped me_!" Anakin wailed into his drink, his fourth of the evening, Obi-Wan sitting on the barstool beside him and looking at the man's rapid descent to intoxication sympathetically. " _Me_! For...f-for  _working too much_!?" He scoffed. "Of course I work too much! How else am I supposed to support me and my neurotic dog and that  _bitch's shopping addiction_?!" It was only a few weeks into the fall term, the unseasonable chill a few weeks earlier vanished in a new heat wave that not only cleared away a good deal of Obi-Wan's mounting tension, but also cleared Anakin's free time since the heat had caused crime rates to spike. With more crimes to solve, his girlfriend of several months felt neglected, offered him an ultimatum, and dutiful Anakin had chosen his job over her, and she left him.

He wasn't taking it well.

"There are better people out there, Anakin..." Obi-Wan said softly, swirling his own drink in his hand, a small glass with a dark red brandy that he had been slowly nursing since they got there. Being even remotely inebriated around an emotionally vulnerable, drunk, single Anakin Skywalker was a recipe for disaster and a chance that he was unwilling to take. He had always prided himself on his self-control, but with the lowered inhibitions alcohol provided and the object of his lust so close at hand, the temptation to ravish poor, dear Anakin may very well have been too great. Ruining what they had wasn't worth it, so he would stay sober.

"She didn't even..." Anakin started before his breath hitched, and he threw back the remainder of his drink and signaled for a new one. "She didn't even like  _me_. She just dated me because...b-because I was famous for, like, a  _week_. 'Cuz I was on television..." He grumbled and wrapped his hand around the new drink that was delivered and drained half the glass. "I didn't even  _do_  anything to get television famous! I just took over a case that  _nobody can solve_!"

"It was admittedly a  _very_  impressive press conference," Obi-Wan gently offered. "Regardless of the circumstances of your relationship, it was wrong of her to make you choose between your relationship and your livelihood."

"I need someone better!" Anakin boldly announced, his stool teetering dangerously before Obi-Wan put his foot on one of the leg supports to stabilize it. "What about..." Anakin swayed on the stool as he looked around the room, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but sigh. They had only been out drinking together twice before this moment, though when Anakin showed up at his door that evening already on his way to drunk and  _very_  emotional, Obi-Wan thought it best to go along with the detective to make certain that no harm befell his precious neighbor.

"You just got out of a long term relationship..." Obi-Wan said slowly as he carefully slid Anakin's half empty glass out of Anakin's reach and discreetly informed the bartender that his friend has had enough. "I'm not certain that now is the best time to-"

"Yes it is!" Anakin insisted, looking back at the professor for a moment and frowning when he saw how unamused the professor looked, and he slumped down in his seat, the flash of boldness gone and replaced with his previous melancholy. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan..." the detective muttered. "We...hardly know each other, I don't know what I was thinking... _of course_  you don't want to hear about my problems..."

"I truly don't mind, Anakin..." Obi-Wan sighed. "But right now, you need a voice of reason, not an enabler. You've had quite a bit to drink, you're emotionally wounded, and this is the time when you're most likely to do something you may come to regret."

"...y-yeah," Anakin nodded, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "You're right, of course you're right..." He reached for his drink, the bartender sliding him a new one, and Anakin wrinkled his nose as he drank from it. "...this shit tastes like water."

"The last shit you drank has been known to kill taste buds," Obi-Wan gently offered, and with a shrug, Anakin downed the rest of the drink.

"I don't really... _know_  what I'm looking for, I guess..." he muttered. "Just...someone who's smart and attractive and kind and compassionate, I guess. All the stuff everyone else wants." He shrugged. "Not very original, I know, but I'm not picky..."

"No type?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his head tilted curiously as he observed him, watched where his eyes wandered, on which people he spent longer gazing at. "Nothing for me to keep my eye open for on campus? I see a great many people every day who  _aren't_  criminals, unlike you, and many of my grad students are around your age." Anakin looked his way, and Obi-Wan flashed him a slight, modest smile. "I could always put in a good word."

"You're a real pal, Obi-Wan," Anakin said brightly, his hand on the bar to keep him stable. "But I can handle it. I'm..." He leaned in toward the man, a loopy grin on his face. "I am  _quite_  sociable...my partner Quinlan makes fun of me for it  _all_  the time."

"Ah..." Obi-Wan said softly, an amused smirk on his lips as he leaned back and looked at the drunken man. "Sociable here being the term one would use in polite company for being easy?"

"Maybe!" Anakin said with a laugh. "Not  _too_  easy, but I like sex, and I don't like limiting myself. Life is short. I want...I-I want..." He sighed, immediately becoming crestfallen once again. "I can't believe she broke up with me..."

"She simply wasn't the one for you," Obi-Wan said. "The right person will...appreciate and admire your work as a part of you."

"...y-yeah!" Anakin said, quickly warming to what he felt was a revelation. "Yeah,  _maybe_  my job's time consuming, but it's important! I-I can't just stop! I may as well be told to stop breathing!"

"And we  _certainly_  can't have that..." Obi-Wan drawled. "The police force needs you, Anakin Skywalker. There are...predators about." He smiled, the hard, mocking edge in his eye lost to the drunken man. "The people must be protected from them."

"Yeah," Anakin agreed. "I just...really liked this girl. Not enough to let her get between me and my work, but I'm not sure I will ever like anyone enough to sacrifice what it takes to be successful in this job. It just so often takes everything I have to give to solve a case."

"I admire that level of devotion, Detective..." Obi-Wan said, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Maybe his own crimes were forgotten now, maybe his lovely string of murders had been pushed to the wayside while he was out of his season, but come winter, he would have Anakin Skywalker's undivided attention, would be the sole focus of his life, the only occupant within his soul,  _just_  like Anakin had come to be to him. It was  _obsession_ , yes, but it was intimate in a way that even Anakin's lovers couldn't get between. For as much as he despised winter, for as much stress as it caused him, for as much pain and suffering he had to relive, it would all be worth it knowing that each of his murders would see him sink deeper and deeper into Anakin's soul.

This was  _better_  than having his body.

Though if he were being honest with himself, he very,  _very_  much wanted his body as well.

"We've spent this  _whole_  evening talking about me and my girlfriend problems," Anakin said as he accepted another drink from the bartender, more water judging by the way his nose wrinkled with distrust as he eyed the glass. "But what about  _you_?" Anakin laughed softly when the professor's posture became ridged. "Aw, come on! Months I've known you, and we've even been out drinking a few times, and I still know  _nothing_  about you!"

"You most certainly do," Obi-Wan muttered, taking a sip from his drink. "And I enjoy listening to you speak. You're better at it than me, and I assure you, you are  _far_  more interesting. You want to talk, and I like to listen. I'd hate to disrupt this equilibrium, and I dislike being the center of attention, as you well know."

"Aw, I bet you're  _lots_  of interesting!" Anakin said, frowning for a moment before he shook his head. " _All kinds_  of interesting! You could...you could tell me something about you I don't know!"

"I'm afraid there isn't anything to tell that you don't already know about..." Obi-Wan lazily drawled, casually leaning against the bar and observing the cop,  _reveling_  in his interest. "I teach English and Advanced Composition at Coruscant University, I am something of an introvert, and-"

"And a  _total lady killer_!" Anakin slurred, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Obi-Wan simply smiled a small, secretive thing, his mind filling with the echoed screams and the thick red blood of all the women he had  _actually_  murdered over the years. Women he carelessly dropped in a remote place to be forgotten, women he cut up and displayed as the centerpieces of his art, immortalized in crime scene photos stored safely within the files of the Negotiator case. The very case that Anakin was investigating, and very,  _very_  soon would be returning to...

"I...suppose you could say that," Obi-Wan said modestly, his eyes averted from the brightly grinning detective.

" _I knew it_!" Anakin said brightly. "Oh,  _oh_ , I bet all your classes fill up  _super_  quick because all the coeds wanna get some of the University's sexiest professor!"

"I believe you have been reading far too many cheap romance novels..." Obi-Wan said with a roll of his eyes. But Anakin wasn't wrong, his classes  _did_  have a sizable wait list, and his classes were often full the first day the students were able to sign up.

"Uh huh, bet you've been...been  _living_  a cheap romance novel!" Anakin awkwardly countered, laughing giddily when he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Obi-Wan simply sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You've got me, Detective. See? You've puzzled out everything there is to me. Not a difficult task, I'm afraid, but I  _did_  warn you that I was something of a cliché."

"Mm, quiet, bookworm,  _hot_  English teacher..." Anakin drawled lazily, leaning in closer until he realized what he had said. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I-I mean...aw,  _fuck_ , why can't we have  _one_  normal conversation?!" He quickly waved both his hands in front of his face. "I'm drunk, it's the booze and my lonely dick talking,  _forget I said anything_."

"Detective, so far as I'm concerned,  _everything_  tonight is the result of your inebriation," Obi-Wan said gently. "I won't hold it against you."

"I  _really_  appreciate that," Anakin said with a swift nod as he grabbed another drink from the bartender, frowning again as he dipped his finger in the obvious water and considered it carefully. "...you got a girlfriend?"

"Ah..." Obi-Wan softly gasped, his eyes sliding out of focus and his entire demeanor becoming distant enough for even the inebriated Anakin to notice. "No..." he whispered after a moment. "Not anymore."

"...h-hey," Anakin said gently, reaching across the bar and laying his hand closer to the obviously distressed man, but too uncertain to touch him. Clearly, the subject was a sensitive one, and Anakin felt like he was on shaky, uncertain ground. "How about...instead of looking out for someone for me, I keep an eye out for someone for  _you_?"

"Ah, no..." Obi-Wan said softly, a faint smile on his lips and the previous discomfort gone entirely, and Anakin was uncertain that he had even seen anything at all. "Although I do appreciate the offer, I am not actively looking to enter into a relationship."

"Why not?" Anakin asked before he could stop himself, wincing and privately cursing his lack of tact. By how quickly Obi-Wan seemed to shut down after the question was asked, Anakin thought he'd be lucky to  _ever_  see the man again. He knew he was a private man. He hadn't meant to pry.

 _There was snowfall, the bitter chill of winter, and the deafening sound of a gunshot. Then there was blood, nothing but blood as it colored the snow, seeped through his clothing, covered his face, his hands, his arms, his everything, all of it flowing from the body that lay dying in his arms. Blood and snow and death he could taste and smell and see and touch and hear, his every sense filled with nothing but red, sticky blood and bitter, awful cold and wretched, soul-wrenching death that filled his entire being as love was torn from him for the final time. It left him with an insatiable craving to kill, to be the cause of the blood, of the death whenever the cold came_.

He quickly pushed the memory to the back of his mind when he felt the beginnings of that all too familiar urge to kill rising its ugly head, and he smiled gently at Anakin, in his life now only because of the tragedies that led him to become what he was. It was born within him long ago, perhaps as far back as when Siri was killed, but  _certainly_  by the time Qui-Gon was murdered. Satine had been able to hold off the beast that had been born within him, but it was certainly there even while he had her. Part of him wondered if she could have kept the beast contained if she hadn't died in his arms that day, or if even she would be unable to contain the monster that had been born within him so long ago. He wondered sometimes if she had seen it within him, if she  _knew_  it was there and loved him anyway, or if she would have been repulsed by his need for blood and death. And when not even she could contain his violent urge to murder...what would dear Satine have done?

"My last relationship..." Obi-Wan said softly, the faintest smile on his lips. "It ended... _quite_  badly."

Anakin nodded, but said no more on the subject. Obi-Wan was a private person, and he wished to respect his privacy. Instead, he smiled brightly and diverted the conversation elsewhere. There were better things to talk about then about the relationships that they failed to have.

* * *

He saw them the moment he stepped into the bar, and he  _froze_. It was one thing to talk about his relationship, as they had a week ago after Anakin's girlfriend had dumped him. It was one thing to  _hear_  about all the things they used to do together, or all the people he had been to bed with, both happily and those he had regretted the moment he regained his senses.  _That_  hadn't been a problem. Something about it had seemed...unreal, some distant, imagined thing that always felt less tangible than his own vivid fantasies about the beautiful detective. He, of course, knew that he could never touch Anakin, not like that, not if he wanted to keep him  _safe_ , and of course, the young detective had no business waiting for him. Obi-Wan was content the way things were, and would continue being content as he slowly occupied more and more of Anakin's soul, as he knew he would the moment his murders were on display once again. And that was all  _fine_.

But  _this_...

There he was,  _his_  Anakin Skywalker, held tightly by a  _very_  large man with powerful, muscular arms, their lips locked tightly together in deep, sloppy kisses, the large man's hands gripping the detective's ass while Anakin palmed the bulge of an enormous erection in the other man's pants. Taller than Anakin and certainly stronger, this man seemed to engulf the detective, and dear, sweet Anakin gleefully,  _wantonly_  pressed against him, his entire being screaming for more.

It was, absolutely without question, more stress than Obi-Wan could handle.

He could feel it rise within him in a vicious torrent of need, his inner demon snarling and angry and demanding blood and death now, now,  _now_ , in a way he rarely felt outside his cycle. This wasn't a stress he could simply fuck or drink away, seeing the object of his intense obsession in the arms of another man, a man that was  _clearly_  going to be taking everything Anakin had to give, everything that Obi-Wan has so,  _so desperately_  wanted. This was  _real_ , not some abstract idea of a girlfriend that he only sometimes saw in the halls. No, this was a stressor best solved with blood, could  _only_  be solved with blood. Slowly, Obi-Wan backed out of the bar, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked quickly down the street.

It was  _too soon_ , too soon to feel the urge the way he did, consuming and overwhelming and driving him to the brink of madness in his lust for blood. He could  _feel_  the hard, murderous edge in his eyes, that wild, untamed predatory look that his victims recognized the moment they saw it. He was dangerous right now, as dangerous as he ever was during the worst times of his winters, and it  _disgusted_  him. It was mid-fall, halfway through autumn, the chill in the air a clear sign of the swiftly coming winter, which only served to stress him further. It was not so long to wait. He could wait. He  _would_  wait. The lust for blood did not control him, did not dictate how he would behave, not now, not before winter, and he would  _not submit control_. He was the master of himself. He could wait a month and a half until his cycle truly began. He could hold off, he could  _control it_...

But the images of Anakin and that man so intimately entwined, and the prospect of where it would lead, with Anakin,  _his Anakin_ , moaning and writhing in pleasure while an enormous man filled him flashed through his mind, and all Obi-Wan could feel was the overwhelming need for blood that  _must_  be sated. He had lost the moment that man touched his Skywalker. He was going to kill someone tonight. He  _had_  to if he wanted to retain any sense of functionality in the weeks leading up to his cycle. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was walking into one of Coruscant's many nightclubs, the thick smoky, sweaty haze and the hard pounding beat of the music only making him more feral, only driving his bloodlust higher with the rapid beating of his heart in his ears.

The moment he set eyes on his victim, a tall, strong, dark haired man in tight jeans and a revealing tank top, not unlike Anakin's soon to be lover,  _nothing_  else mattered. Committed to the murder of this man, his proxy kill for the man he  _truly_  wished to slaughter, he felt the calm, predatory patience settle over him as he stalked toward the man, a drink in his hand and speaking to another equally large man, friends, by the look of it, laughing together and none too subtly eying the nearest pretty thing they could find. When Obi-Wan approached, their attentions were drawn to him, and laughing softly, the two began to eye him as well, the poor lighting concealing the hard edge and the savage hunger in his eyes and making it appear to be simple lust.

It was easy after that, the light touch of a wandering hand and a panting, breathless whisper that he wanted him,  _needed his desperately_ , and the man bid his laughing buddy goodnight and left the club with Obi-Wan. There was a hotel nearby, one that the professor had frequented often in the past, one he had carefully mapped out in his mind, and as they drew closer, Obi-Wan told his victim to get the room while he picked up drugs and condoms. He barely heard what the leering, arrogant man said when he grabbed his chin and forced the smaller professor to look up at him, focusing instead on the pulsing vein in his neck, strong and fast with arousal that could be seen in his wide, dilated pupils and his quickly tightening jeans. When he bent down to kiss him, his hands on the professor's ass to draw him closer, Obi-Wan bit the man's lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to hurt, and a wicked grin spread across his victim's face as he laughed, grabbed his ass, and sauntered off to pay for the room.

Obi-Wan anxiously fingered the knife in his pocket as he paced in an alley opposite the motel, his eyes trained on the main office and waiting for his victim to step out. He carefully eyed the security cameras, a thing he began doing at the start of his killing career and was now an almost subconscious, instinctual thing. As with most cheap hotels like this one, the security was poor, the cameras old and in obvious need of replacing, and several of them simply didn't work, the hope that their mere presence would be enough to deter criminal acts. It wasn't, and by the time his victim came out of the office with the keys, Obi-Wan was confident that the one camera facing the line of rooms he was heading toward simply didn't work, a thing he confirmed when he drew closer, looked up, and found the little red recording light dead and the lense smashed.

He slowly sauntered up to the man as he put the keys in the door, the man grinning at him and swiftly opening the door and stepping inside, Obi-Wan following closely after and closing and bolting the door behind him. His victim was on him in an instant, his hands pawing at his chest and grabbing at his hips and ass as he told him the long list of the things he would do to him between panted breaths. The man chuckled deeply when Obi-Wan shrugged off his shirt, eying the older man appreciatively as he let the fine garment drop to the floor, and he stroked his auburn hair when swift, steady fingers were at his belt and swiftly unbuckling it.

"You don't waste time, do you?" he asked, his voice low and seductive as Obi-Wan pulled the belt free from its loops. "Eager for this?"

"Mm, you have  _no_  idea..." Obi-Wan drawled, his voice low and his accent thick as it always became when he was high with the thrill of a victim in his grasp. "It's been... _so long_  since I've last indulged this part of myself..."

"Well, I'll do my best to make this as good for you as I can."

"Oh, you've already done that..." Obi-Wan whispered, the thick leather belt running through his fingers as he slid the end of the strap through the loop. "There are a few things I like, if you don't mind." Eying the belt in his hands, the man's eyes widened with understanding.

"Oh, you're into the  _kinky_  shit, yeah? You're a little freak, aren't you?"

"So it's been said..." Obi-Wan said, running the soft leather of the belt across the man's broad, muscular chest. "Strip for me, I want to see you."

With a sultry, cocky grin, the man pulled his shirt off, flexing the thick muscled of his chest for show before he kicked off his shoes, watching as the older man slowly began to circle around him, the intensity of his gaze making him feel like his eyes were burning holes in his skin. Just as he had unbuttoned his pants and slid the waist down to his knees, the leather loop of the belt was placed over his head and quickly pulled tight, the sudden violent force making him fall to the ground as the leather began to cut into his neck. He struggled to get his fingers between the belt and his neck to give him some space to breathe, but the strap was pulled too tightly, and the swift, sudden force of Obi-Wan's heel slammed into his chest and held him in place. He kicks and struggled to get free, but the man above him was  _much_  stronger than he looked, and the wild, feral look in his eye was enough to stun him still, long enough for his attacker to wrap the strap around his neck a second time and pull harder.

He tried to fight back, tried to strike out against the man, but the waist of his pants at his knees kept his legs effectively useless and moving his hands to grasp for his legs only allowed the belt to be pulled tighter. His vision began to tunnel, his limbs began to feel heavy and his movements sluggish as he clawed at the belt in an attempt to breathe. He was too weak to struggle much when Obi-Wan released him, the belt still tight around his neck, and he barely felt himself being moved when he was dragged backwards and pulled up on the cheap, creaky bed. The clawing at the belt around his neck was interrupted when his hand was roughly grabbed and pulled above his head, the man's mouth open and gaping for breath he could not draw when he felt his wrists roughly bound together. His chest spasmed and he coughed, the swift contraction of his muscular causing the tucked strap to dislodge, and his lungs filled with a thin rush of air.

"W-why are you doing this..." he managed, his voice little more than a raspy wheeze, and he jolted when he saw his assailant standing at the edge of the bed and observing him. "L-let me go, you sick fuck!"

"I think not..." he drawled thickly. "You're a touch bigger and stronger than my typical, I'd hate for you to get away. The restraints are necessary."

"L-look, if this is some...s-some rape thing, you don't have to do this!" the man gasped frantically, his breathing too thin to alleviate the way his head was swimming. "I'll...I'll just give it to you! I've never done it before, b-but I can! If you just...let me go..."

"If I was going to have sex with you, I'd have done it already, this  _isn't_  about sex..." Obi-Wan growled, his hungry eyes fixed on the bound man's face as he drew the knife from his pocket and flicked it open. The man's eyes widened, and he renewed his struggle, though it was feeble at best, the restraints too well tied and his strained mind teetering on unconsciousness from lack of oxygen.

"N-no, please..." the man begged as Kenobi drew closer. "I'll give you anything you want!"

"Anything?" Obi-Wan asked, a crooked smile on his lips as he loomed over the frantically nodding, red-faced man. With a wolfish grin, he leaned over and kissed the man, his victim at first eagerly, desperately kissing back until he began choking for air, his arms straining against the restraints around his wrists, which he was becoming more and more certain was the older man's tightly wrapped belt. Pressing his lips to the man's powerful chest, Obi-Wan straddled his hips, his eyes running slowly over the powerful body stretched out before him imagining that Anakin was looking at a very similar sight, his dear detective seated much like he was now, naked and moaning as he rode the man's cock, and jealousy and anger pulsed deep within him, his need for blood hitting its peak, his control teetering on a dangerous precipice.

"I  _just_  want your blood..." Obi-Wan growled in a husky whisper, the man beneath him renewing his struggles and attempting to buck him off until the point of the knife pressed just over his heart and he fell still, his eyes wide as he looked at the dangerous, wicked smile on the man's face, the look in his eyes wild and  _wrong_ , something unquestionably off about him. "I learned a great del since my first time..." Obi-Wan muttered. " _That_  was a messy affair. This will be too, of course, but I promise it won't hurt for long..."

" _Please_..." the man whimpered. "Please, you don't have to do this..."

"Oh, but I do..." Obi-Wan whispered, his voice a distant, flat monotone. "More than you can  _possibly_  know,  _I need this_..."

"Before he could utter another word, a sharp, stabbing pain filled his chest as the knife slid between his ribs and into his heart, each frantic, fluttering beat sending a jolt of agony through him. A savage grown from the man above him saw the knife twist, and he could feel the blade scraping along his ribs, the sudden pressure lifting when the knife was quickly removed to a long, shuddering moan torn from the throat of his murderer, his long fingers running almost affectionately over his chest and through the blood that pulsed in thick, heavy spurts directly through the hole to his heart. He watched with wide, shocked eyes at the killer's handsome visage, his blue eyes clouded and hazy like he was high, an expression of bliss upon his face. Pain left him quickly, his vision tunneling and his body becoming too heavy to move. In his last moments, he felt nothing but warmth and the affectionate hands of the man that murdered him gently stroking his face and neck and a soft, thick voice promising him it would be alright.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed, a soft smile on his lips when he heard the knock on his door. It had been nearly two months since he had so much as  _seen_  Anakin, the detective coming home late and leaving very early the next day since the first body turned up. It wasn't all Anakin's fault, of course. Obi-Wan himself admitted to becoming dangerously reclusive during the winter, and this season had been no different, his nights spent locked away in his study planning his murders or in his bedroom drunk to the point of unconsciousness. But the season was over, his cycle completed, his three murders done, and he was once again at peace, slowly coming back to life from the bloodlust of his urge.

But now it was over, the winter still cold in the air, but the stress of the holidays was finished, and Obi-Wan had been enjoying the last few weeks of the University's break to reacclimate himself to normality. The fact that Anakin was at his door, and it could  _only_  be Anakin, was just the icing on the cake, the glorious prize at the end of his murder spree, the reward for the careful construction of another three masterpieces of blood and body parts to terrorize the good people of Coruscant. He supposed there was the slightest chance that it wasn't Anakin the Neighbor and instead Anakin the Detective, finally come to arrest him for the gruesome murder of his three lookalikes, but it had been nearly two weeks since he had taken and displayed his last victim.

The fact that they hadn't come to him sooner was a really good indication that, once again, he had gotten away with murder. He had been especially careful this time. He couldn't very well allow this game to end so soon, not after his first dance against Detective Skywalker, not when it was the one way he could capture and hold his attention, could sit in the depths of his mind and  _haunt_  him the way that Anakin so haunted him, not when there were so,  _so_ many more years left in him to play this dangerous game...

Obi-Wan briefly checked himself in the mirror on his way to the door to make certain the dark circles under his eyes had vanished, the haggard lines faded away, the haunted, shattered look in his eyes back in the bloody pit of him where it belonged. Finding himself not just acceptable, but  _presentable_ , he gave his apartment a cursory glance, everything neat and tidy as it had been before his cycle began, and opened the door, a slight, pleased smile on his lips as he looked at his weary, disheveled neighbor, a thick file tucked under his arm and his shoulders slumped, making the tall man appear far smaller than he was.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan said cheerfully as he leaned in the doorway. "Long time no see. I was beginning to worry something had happened to you."

"Something  _did_  happen..." he muttered morosely. "Winter fucking happened.  _Again_."

"As it does every year..." Obi-Wan said, carefully observing the man as he laughed hollowly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Every year..." the detective growled. "Every  _fucking_  year! I thought...I-I thought this year would be different because  _I_..." He trailed off and sighed heavily. "...may I come in?"

"Of course..." Obi-Wan said without hesitation, moving out of the doorway and waving the detective into his apartment, and with another heavy sigh, Anakin shuffled in, Obi-Wan silently closing the door behind him and watching as the man shuffled down the hall. He clenched his hand tightly to keep it from shaking, and he clutched his chest,  _certain_  his heart had stopped. This was the first time Anakin had been in his apartment, the  _first time_  he had been inside his domain, a thing that he had fantasized about  _many_  times before. It was a good thing Anakin had come now instead during the madness of his cycle, or he wasn't sure that the stress and the excitement of his obsession walking right into his grasp wouldn't result in him taking the boy and fucking him against the wall, and sex during his cycles...never ended well.  _Ever_.

"Can I get you anything?" Obi-Wan asked, walking past the man, careful not to touch him, and leading him into the living room, gesturing to the couch for him to sit on, and Anakin was quick to take him up on his offer, sitting carefully as if afraid to disrupt the perfect neatness of the fastidiously kept room, his eyes wandering and taking in the home of his private neighbor as if he may learn something new about the man from the home he kept.

"I wouldn't mind a drink, if you have anything..." Anakin said shyly, and Obi-Wan quickly nodded, moved to his cabinets and grabbed a bottle of expensive brandy and began mixing the drink at the counter.

"What's bothering you, Detective?" Obi-Wan asked, handing him the drink and feeling his heart race when Anakin smiled gratefully, their fingertips brushing against each other when he took the glass.

"You know..." Anakin muttered, watching as Obi-Wan lowered himself into the chair opposite him and crossed his legs, and despite himself, the detective couldn't keep his eyes from wandering. "Work's been... _rough_. I'm sure you've heard, but the Negotiator struck again."

"I heard..." Obi-Wan said softly. "Awful thing. All over the news."

"Y-yeah..." Anakin said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a drink from his glass, wincing with the burn as it went down. "It's been my life for the past month..."

 _His life_. Obi-Wan thought he'd  _swoon_.

"I know the nature of your work is somewhat classified, but if you need to talk about it-"

"I do, actually," Anakin said with a tired sigh, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze for a moment before he quickly looked away. "If you don't mind. It's...not exactly pleasant."

"I'm rather resilient to things that are uniquely awful," Obi-Wan said with a tight smile. "It's been on the news all month, I'm a touch desensitized." Anakin threw back the rest of his drink and put the glass and his files on the table.

"Alright, so the Negotiator has this pattern, right?" Anakin began. "Three victims every winter, no discernable pattern in his victimology. Male, female, young, older, different physical characteristics, some of them he has sex with, some he doesn't. It's always been... _random_."

"That has been part of the difficulty in the past, hasn't it?" Obi-Wan asked quietly as Anakin opened his folder and began to rift through it.

"Yeah, it's made him impossible to predict..." Anakin said swiftly, slamming the folder shut. "But this year, it's changed.  _This year_ , his victims aren't random anymore, he's  _very_  specific about who he chooses." His brow knit together in concentration, and Obi-Wan found himself leaning in toward him. "All males, mid twenties, blond, blue eyes, roughly six foot..." His hands tightened into fists. "All men chosen because they look  _just like me_." Anakin growled, his teeth grinding together. "He's... _mocking_  me. We know what he's going for now, we know  _exactly_  the sort of victim he will take...a-and we still couldn't catch him. H-he still got away...I have to wait a whole  _fucking_  year to have another shot at him..."

"It's...only a few weeks since the last murder," Obi-Wan said gently. "Surely you can still find him, the trail isn't cold yet."

"No, it is, he's gone," Anakin said bitterly. "We lose him the moment that third body goes up, he's too careful, his crime scenes too... _perfect_  for sloppy mistakes. I thought things would be different now that I was on the case, I thought..." He swirled the ice in his empty glass until Obi-Wan got up and brought the brandy to the table and poured him another drink. "I didn't think it would make  _him_  change."

"Are you certain he is mocking you?"

"Of course he's mocking me, what else could it be..." Anakin growled, and Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair and folded his hands before him.

"Oh, I don't know...a man has a pattern, a routine that he has kept up for two years, and what prompts him to change his ways is  _you_ , Detective. That doesn't sound like mockery, that sounds like... _inspiration_. Admiration, perhaps."

"Or obsession..." Anakin muttered, his breath held for a moment and his eyes widening as he considered the idea. "...yes, maybe." Anakin flashed Obi-Wan a quick smile, tense still, but some of the defeat had gone out of his shoulders. "I hadn't thought of it like that. We've been going around in circles with this at the station for  _weeks_ , all of were dead-set on the Negotiator just mocking us because he knew he couldn't be caught since  _last time_  he talked his way out of being discovered at his own crime scene. Everyone likes the idea that he's gotten arrogant."

"Well...has he?"

"No," Anakin said swiftly, leaving no room at all for doubt. "No, he's cocky, for sure, but not too much. Arrogant gets careless, arrogant makes mistakes, and our guy knows he's good, but he  _also_  knows he's playing with fire. He's methodical, and he's careful, and his crime scenes are..." He stopped, bit on his lip, and looked inside the file folder, flipping through some of the pages inside. "They're  _perfect_ ," he finally decided. "As perfect as a crime scene can get. Everything is carefully placed, everything there is intentional and deliberate like some gruesome fucking masterpiece, which I'm certain is  _exactly_  how he sees it." He sighed and closed the folder again. "He leaves no witnesses, appears in no security footage, leaves no evidence...the bodies are as clean as they could possibly be, there is  _nothing_  to lead us back to him..." Anakin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "...no, he isn't arrogant. You're right, this isn't a mockery. It's... _playful_...flirtatious, even."

"How terribly romantic..." Obi-Wan drawled. "Sounds like we found you someone who at least appreciates your work."

"Yeah, if only I could find  _him_ ," Anakin said, the faintest smile on his face as he looked at Obi-Wan. "The one year he gives us something to go on, gives us something  _consistent_  and I blow it completely..."

"Well, if we've learned one thing, Anakin, it's that the more he changes, the more he stays the same," Obi-Wan said flippantly. "Winter will come again. You'll catch him next year. You'll be ready for him then."

"Yeah..." Anakin said absently before he nodded, his handsome features drawn and resolute. "Yes," he said firmly, much more confident than before. "Next year, I'll be ready." The detective chuckled softly to himself for a moment. "Obsession and inspiration...I feel so  _stupid_  for not thinking of that before. Thank you, Obi-Wan. We're all so personally wrapped up in this at the station, especially this year, it didn't occur to me that we might need an outside opinion. This has...given me something to think about."

"You are quite welcome, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a soft smile. "I am, as always, delighted to be of service." Obi-Wan smiled as he watched the detective slip into deep thought, absently swirling the glass in his hand and allowed himself a moment to eye the attractive man and take pleasure in the fact that right now, at this very moment, Anakin Skywalker was thinking about  _nothing_  other than the Negotiator's fixation on him.

It was  _entirely_  intoxicating, to own Anakin Skywalker the way he did, to pull the leash and know that the detective would follow him wherever he went. No matter how far. No matter how long, Anakin  _belonged_  to him.  _Forever_...

"A whole year..." Anakin bemoaned. "I can't believe I have to wait a whole  _fucking_  year for him to kill again..."

"Well, he changed the pattern of his victims," Obi-Wan gently offered. "Perhaps he'll change the number of victims as well."

"No, I don't think so..." Anakin said with a groan as he rose from the couch and collected his folder. "I don't know what it is, but the number of victims is significant somehow. That won't change. The only thing that's really different is now his  _victims_  have a new layer of deranged symbolism."

"Sounds like your killer has the soul of a poet..." Obi-Wan drawled, rising to his feet to face the restless detective.

" _Right_ ," Anakin scoffed. "If that poet is Edgar Allen Poe's  _vengeful fucking murder ghost_!"

"Oh, I love Poe!" Obi-Wan said brightly. "I have his complete works in my personal library, I'd be happy to lend it to you if you've the inclination to read it."

"Maybe next time, I need to go," Anakin said, a touch of reluctance in his voice and that small, apologetic smile on his lips that made Obi-Wan  _burn_. "The Negotiator may be done for the year, but  _I've_  still got a shit ton of work to do on the case." His jaw tightened as he held his breath, and Obi-Wan slowly stepped closer toward him. "I'm not letting this case be pushed to the wayside again. Just because he's not in the media doesn't mean he's not out there, and I  _won't_  let the pressure off! If we do, by the time he starts up again, it's like  _we_  need to start over, and by the time we're reacquainted with all his bullshit, the Negotiator has finished his murders and disappeared again. Not this time."

"Mm, I think the Negotiator would be  _thrilled_  to know how consumed you are with him..." Obi-Wan drawled, a sly, teasing smirk on his lips that made Anakin flush a deep shade of red, avert his eyes and absently fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"I'm sure he would be..." Anakin muttered. "But if I'm going to catch this guy, I  _have_  to know everything about him. A guy this smart doesn't get caught on a technicality. I need to  _understand_  him. I need to be able to predict his movements to save these men he's killing, it's the only way we'll ever catch him..."

"Well, I'm certain you will find him, Detective Skywalker," Obi-Wan said gently as he led Anakin toward the door and escorted him to his own door the short way across the hall. "With your level of dedication to the Negotiator, I don't see how you can fail."

"I'll do my best to live up to your expectations, Professor..." Anakin said, that small, shy smile on his lips, and Obi-Wan had to take a step back. "I...t-thank you. For everything."

"It was fun," Obi-Wan said softly. "Anytime you'd like to come over for drinks, Anakin, you know where to find me."

"Soon," Anakin said quietly. "Very soon, I hope, as soon as things calm down at the office." He flashed him another smile and turned away quickly when he felt himself checking out the handsome professor  _again_ , fumbling for his keys and cursing as he quickly opened the door to the sound of Threepio's frantic scurrying and panicked barks. "Oh, for the love of..." Anakin growled, quickly turning back to his neighbor when he stepped into the apartment. "Goodnight, Obi-Wan. I'll see you soon."

"Goodnight, Anakin..." Obi-Wan said, grinning when the detective's door slammed shut as the man began yelling at the dog. " _My Anakin_..."

Obi-Wan slowly retreated back into his apartment and locked the door, a giddy grin on his face, and with his head swimming, he threw himself on his bed and  _reveled_  in the undivided attention of Anakin Skywalker. It was obsession and lust and drunkenness all at once, a high akin to the peak of orgasm just to know that just across the hall, his Anakin was thinking,  _obsessing_  about  _him_. It was...flattering. A testament to his work.  _Arousing_  in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time, and with a deep, lustful growl, Obi-Wan tore open his button-up shirt and committed himself to an evening of laying in bed and indulging himself in thoughts of Anakin in his apartment, the detective's mind filled with  _nothing_  but him and his work... _naked_ , if his active imagination could conjure it, the cop and the serial killer, two halves of a singular whole.

"You are  _mine_ , Anakin Skywalker..." Obi-Wan moaned between ragged, panting gasps of breath, allowing his obsession to quickly give way to unrestrained lust for his handsome neighbor. "Whether you know it or not, you are  _mine_."


End file.
